


Sweet Dreams

by dt8b0t



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, POV First Person, Wish Fulfillment, a journey into Simon's mind, baz is so bottled up that he explodes the moment he gets to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dt8b0t/pseuds/dt8b0t
Summary: What if Baz and Simon's first kiss hadn't happened during their eighth year, but instead, during their fifth year, and they just don't remember it? Some dreams, some wish fulfillment, some cuteness, and a lot of denial.





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Simon's POV. Simon's confusing of dreams with reality is based on my own experiences. Again, occurs in fifth year, which is why there aren't any Humdrum traumas in his dreams.

Dreams feel so real when I’m dreaming them. They're hazy, but my mind is hazy too, too hazy to realize how senseless they are until they pass.

One time, I dreamt I was escaping a test with Penny. She tried to solve it, but she couldn't, because I had eaten her favorite yogurt and she needed nutrition. I grabbed a table and tried to shield us, but the test blowed fire at it and it crumbled to dust. It opened its horrible mouth, fangs red from Fs, and shut it around Penelope, eating her whole. I got up in a rush, trying to figure out where I left my sword, and was confused by the sudden darkness- which is when I remembered that Penny doesn't even like yogurt. It took me a bit longer to recall that exams, as horrible as they are, don't breath fire.

One other time, I dreamt I was going on a date with Agatha. We were riding on a huge rabbit, but she didn't like it because it wasn't soft enough. I gave her a bouquet, but she didn't like it because it wasn't as pretty as her. So I rearranged it to be a statue of her, but she already went somewhere. I texted her to meet me the next morning at the Mage’s ice cream truck, and went to bed. In the morning I was so sure I'm late to meet her I tripped over a floor board on the way to the closet to get my uniform, but then I realized that I don't have my uniform here, because I was at an orphanage, and a Normals orphanage at that. I wanted to tell Agatha that I'll be late, or at least apologize in case I’d offended her the day before, but then realized it's the middle of the summer, and I wasn't allowed to contact anyone, not to mention have a date. It was a bit of a relief to know I hadn't had that date with Agatha, since I wouldn't have known what to apologize for.

Now, I’m in a large, blue cave, with water up to my knees. I'm hiding from something. I try to walk as quietly as possible, but then everything turns red. “Use your words, Simon.” Says Miss Possibelf, her giant head blocking the cave’s entrance. I try to run, and instead of feeling water, my legs are moving on a soft, warm surface, fabric-like, and I'm confused. Then the face is the Mage's. “You have to defeat The Humdrum, Simon.” I try to tell him I can't, but my voice doesn't come out, and when it does, it's strangled and far, and I feel it in my throat. The head turns into a Chimera, and it says “Simon,” without moving its mouth.

I realize that I'm dreaming, because I fought a Chimera lately, and it didn't talk at all.

I suddenly remember Penny telling me about lucid dreaming, and that you can control a dream if you know you're in it. I feel triumphant, and the Chimera disappears on its own. I get up to walk into the dark depths of the cave, slightly dizzy, wondering if I could dream up treasure there.

It's so dark around me that I wonder if my eyes are closed. Then I hear it again, in front of me: “Simon.” I open my eyes, and I'm standing in front of Baz’s bed. He’s rolling in his sleep. Normally, I would have reconsidered my sanity if I'd thought Baz was saying my name out of sleep, but as I've already established that I'm dreaming, it isn't that outrageous. I get down on my knees and kiss him, I don't even know why, but also, I don't know why not.

He jolts awake and immediately pushes me away, more confused than I've ever seen him. “Wh- what, why did you-”

“It's just a dream.” I don't know why I bother to explain to the characters of my dreams that they're not real, but dream-me doesn't need reasons.

“Oh, okay,” he says, as if that explains everything. His hands are around my neck before I can blink, and he’s kissing me as if he's trying to eat me. Not liking spit covering the surroundings of my mouth, I open my mouth and coordinate myself to him, having learned from my mistakes during my and Agatha's first kisses. He tastes surprisingly good. Better than Agatha. Better than ice cream. Perhaps even better than scones. For a moment I'm appalled at rating Baz above scones in anything, but then I remember I'm dreaming, and I can rate whatever to be whatever the hell I want when I'm dreaming.

Baz stops kissing me, grabs me by the waist and heaves me to the far side of the bed, as if I'm merely the weight of a school bag. He pulls my shirt up, and it gets stuck under my arms. I sit up and raise my hands to help him. “I sort of expected you to be better at this. Not that I don't like it, but you know, it's a dream and-”

“Shut up, you’re in  _ my _ dream and you’re gonna love whatever I'm gonna do to you.”

“ 'Kay.”

He bears his fangs at me, and for a moment I'm scared he'll drink my blood. I'm still not sure if it's that kind of dream or not. “Cross. Off.”

“Oh, right.” I pull it over my head and throw it aside. It lands at the foot of my desk.

He goes back to kissing me, still as though he's starving for it, this time with his hands skimming over my torso. Every fiber of my being approves. I'm reminded of an old song I know - the lyrics are something along the lines of “touch-a touch-a touch me”, but I'm not thinking all too sharply so I'm not sure. I just relate to it.

He moves to kiss down my neck and I wish he'll do it forever. I smell smoke, and notice that my hand is blurring. (The one on Baz’s head, not the one under his shirt. I don't know whether that hand is blurring too, but to check I'll have to stop touching Baz, and I have no plans for that.)

“God, you’re so sexy when you go off. If I ever get burned by one of your tantrums, I'll die happy. Or hard. Maybe both.”

Definitely a dream. Baz would impale himself before he’d say anything like that, especially to me. But if so, then I can't kill us both by accident. Might as well go on.

He grabs my ass and squeezes. “This is such an old item on my bucket list, I almost forgot about it,” he confesses. He buries his face in my chest and sighs in relief. However long I must have been waiting for this in order to dream it up, dream-Baz waited longer. He kisses his way to my waist, and sucks on it so strongly that I think he’s turning me without even using his teeth. Usually the pain of a pinch is enough to tell me I'm awake, but this pain is too good to be true. I put my hands in his soft hair and push one of my legs between his. He moans.

I don't know how long we went like this, but eventually I was nodding off. He seemed tired too. I was half asleep when we started, I'm amazed we managed to keep going for so long.

I mean, I'm still asleep. I was asleep when we started this. It's a dream.

Baz inhales me deeply. “I want a dream just like this tomorrow.” He sounds so cute when he's sleepy, and if real Baz would've acted anything like this Baz, I would have broken up with Agatha for him a long time ago.

“Same.”

“What, my dreams are having dreams now too?” He laughs cutely.

I pet his hair, and go back to my bed, since these beds are too small for two people to sleep in, even in my dreams.

 

I wake up with a strange, but not unpleasant, flavor in my mouth. Baz is still asleep when I get up, like any other day, ever since I started getting early to breakfast. (I manage to eat two servings in the time it takes most students to eat a normal amount of food, but the third or fourth serving will make me late to class if I don't get to breakfast early enough.)

Last night's dream seemed absolutely absurd in the light of day. (Especially since the light of day is so prominent in here just to spite Baz.) (He hates sunlight, like the goddamn vampire he won't admit to be, so I open the blinds at all times.)

I brush my teeth, a bit sad to let go of my dream’s flavor.

Everything goes normally. Except when I pull down my shirt, and notice a purple mark on my waist.

I freeze. I pull it up again, just enough to see the edge of the mark. Unmistakably purple. Too strong to have come without a hitch, and I don't remember getting kicked in the side lately.

“Did you forget how to put on a shirt, or are you just  _ pretending _ to be a moron?” It had to be a dream. No way these two people are the same guy.

I dress up in a hurry now. (By which I mean, hysterically.) I'm rushing towards the bathroom to fix my necktie in front of the mirror when my foot knocks into something cold and metallic. I lean down to pick it up- it's my cross necklace, at the foot of my desk. I'm shaking now. I look around to Baz, who’s sniffing his sheets in confusion. I can almost see the crease in the sheets I left last night.

I escape to the bathroom, breathing heavily.

Does it count as cheating if you thought you were dreaming? It doesn't sound as bad as cheating in my head, but in a way it sounds worse, because that means that deep down, I wanted Baz all along. No no no no no. There's no way, it can't be. It was just some stupid subconscious mixup or whatever the fuck, whatever in the world that isn't a makeout with Tyrannus Basilton fucking Pitch.

Besides, he would have dreamt it too if it were real. And he hates me, if he had a sexual dream about me he would have freaked out completely, right?

Deep breaths. I’ll just tie my tie and get out of here.

Everything is normal when I step outside. Especially Baz. He looks as calm, cocky and immaculate as always, and perhaps even a tad more pleased. Last night had to be a dream. But then again, how did I get bruised? How did my necklace get there? Hell, the room still smelled like me going off the night before.

On the other hand, i know by now what Baz looks like when he's distressed, even a little. If Baz is so calm when believing he’d dreamt of me in that way, it means that this isn't the first time it happened. It means that Baz has dreamt of me, undressed and moaning in his bed, so many times before that by now he doesn't even flinch about it in the morning.

**NOPE** .

I must have dropped the necklace there without noticing. And knocked into a table, that's how I got the bruise. (Nevermind that I've never even taken the necklace off, except for showers, ever since I received it two full years ago. Or that the tables at Watford are the height of my hip, at most.)

I probably meant to dream about Agatha, and my mind got them confused because they're both skinny and pale or whatever.

I rush to breakfast, putting this memory in the dark, dusty back of my mind, never to be thought of again.

**Author's Note:**

> My headcannon is that Baz is so bottled up about his feelings that when he finally gets to talk with no repercussions, he spills about everything. He has literally no one to tell. Also we already know, from the book, that Simon is very experienced in not-thinking, so I imagine he tagged this as a little mix up in his subconscious, and forgot it along with any other unimportant memory he had.


End file.
